


Gestalt Quirks

by RC_Steel



Category: Transformers Generation One
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-21
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-19 04:08:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/568916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RC_Steel/pseuds/RC_Steel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Have you ever noticed that almost all the members of G1 gestalt teams have something wrong with them? Whether it's a phobia, recognizable disorder, or an over exaggerated personality trait. They each have a unique processor fluke that makes them stand out in your mind. With each chapter of this story you will see an example of them exhibiting their issues for all of us to enjoy. Long live the gestalts!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Intermittent Explosive Disorder

Intermittent Explosive Disorder: Intermittent explosive disorder is characterized by repeated episodes of aggressive, violent behavior in which you react grossly out of proportion to the situation. Road rage, domestic abuse, and angry outbursts or temper tantrums that involve throwing or breaking objects may be signs of intermittent explosive disorder

Deffinition provided by Mayo Clinic.

Motormaster stomped down the long purple hallway that led to the Stunticon's small wing of the Nemesis.

His pedes made a loud crashing noise on the metal floor. He was walking with a little more force then was really necessary. It was very necessary for him though. He liked the floor to tremble just like his frame was. He liked it to shake with as much rage as he was feeling.

The reason for his anger was of course his wayward teammates. They had been sent out on a mission to pick up a component for Megatron's latest weapon the day before. Normally he would have went with them to ensure that everything went as planned but Megatron had requested he go on a solo mission to pick up a cache of Energon he had stored for emergencies. That energon would be used to power the new weapon. That is it would if his teammates were competent enough to collect the most important part.

Motormaster growled and his engine revved as he thought of how they must have failed miserably. He started to think of all the ways they might have screwed up this time. That only served to increase his anger.

He wasn't yet aware of how they had fragged up but he was sure it must have been idiotic like usual. He had just arrived back from his mission and it had gone without a single hitch.

He was nearing the entrance to their quarters now and he could feel his team through there gestalt bond. They were all relaxed and in bubbly moods.(Well as much of a bubbly mood as Dead End could be in.) So much so that they didn't even notice his rage through their link.

He could feel his processor pounding. The pain added to the tingling feeling that always spread through his circuits when he was in this kind of mood.

They were in there enjoying themselves even though the four of them had failed Megatron just hours before. They should be ashamed. They should be bowing before their great leader begging for forgiveness and mercy.

Well they would be begging soon enough.

Motormaster pulled out his sword and sliced through the door. It was a thin cut but it was enough to warn the occupants of the room of what was coming for them. He heard them all run to there separate rooms. He didn't really understand why. They all knew he would come for them.

He slammed his large shoulder against the door and it flew across the room and hit the wall across from him. It had been unlocked but he just needed to smash something. To release some of the massive amount of energy that was racing through his fuel lines.

It wasn't as satisfying as his teammates' heads would be but it still helped a little.

He looked around the now empty room. The living area was surrounded by five doors that led to each of the stunticon's individual berthrooms. He registered a sweet smell in his olfactory sensors and sniffed. He looked down and saw four high grade cubes on the table in the middle of the room's two couches.

His optics must have malfunctioned at that point because everything he saw turned red.

How dare they drink high grade to celebrate a failure. He had never heard of something so infuriating. They obviously had no pride in the work they did or the cause they served.

He was going to make them pay for this insult to the Decepticon cause. And he knew just how to make each of them suffer.

He walked over to the first door and knocked softly. It slid open slowly and he could see Breakdown peeking out at him from behind it.

The blue and white Lamborghini's optics brightened at seeing Motormaster. When he had heard the timid knock he had expected it to be Dead End coming to tell him the coast was clear. The last thing he had expected was the hulking mass of purple and grey evil leering down at him.

He gasped loudly and backed away from his leader's purple staring optics. He tried to slam the door but Motormaster grabbed it and bent the metal in a way that made Breakdown sure it would never close again without significant repairs.

Motormaster watched his timid gestalt mate back away from him slowly until his back pressed against the far wall. He never took his optics off the smaller mechs as he continued to take small steps toward him.

Breakdown started to shake in terror. Motormaster stared at him for a full 10 minutes. As soon as his own frame started to shake with the energy that wasn't finding an outlet he ceased his little game.

He shot his arms out and grabbed Breakdown by the front of his chassis. The smaller mech didn't even have time to squeak in terror before he was roughly smashed against the wall.

Motormaster continued to stare into Breakdowns optics. Never breaking the contact even as the other mech's body was being pounded hard into the wall. He didn't have to look up to know that a dent was forming.

On the ninth smash Breakdown offlined and his optics slowly dimmed to black.

Motormaster growled at seeing this. What a pathetic piece of slag. So weak that he offlined after a few hits. The wall had taken more damage then he had.

He dragged Breakdown with him as he exited the room. The large purple mech dropped his unconscious team mate in front of the door that was painted blue and white after his colors. Looking back into the room he could see that the far wall now had the same color scheme. Breakdown's back was a lovely shade of gray.

That gave him an idea for his next victim.

He stomped over to the next door in the line and smashed his fist against it until it crashed open. It felt so good to watch it crumple from the force.

Dead End was standing in the middle of the room waiting for him. It angered Motormaster even more that he wasn't shaking in terror.

The larger mech didn't waste anytime staring here. He grabbed Dead End by the throat and threw him onto the berth that lined the far side of the wall. He unsubspaced a knife and held it out for Dead End to see.

Even with the appearance of the weapon Dead End still appeared to be bored with the whole affair. He had been punished many times before and this wasn't anything new for him.

Or so he thought, Motormaster had a special punishment in mind today.

Motormaster grabbed one of Dead End's arms tightly. He could feel the metal denting in his tight grip. He held the knife to the arm and slowly began to scrap off the paint in irregular patterns. It made a loud squealing sound that Motormaster savored.

When Dead End realized what was happening he began to struggle. Motormaster reached out and pinned him to the berth by his neck. The smaller mech continued to attempt to get away throughout the whole experience. He tried to talk a few times but every time Motormaster suspected that his subordinate was going to speak he tightened his grip on the neck he was still holding onto.

By the time Dead End's entire frame was covered in silver scratches his vocalizer was almost crushed.

Motormaster grabbed the smaller mechs helm and smashed it hard against the nearby wall. Dead End offlined instantly.

The large purple mech placed Dead End on the floor outside the ruined door just as he had done with Breakdown.

He moved on to the next mech that needed to be punished.

He grabbed the side of Wildrider's door and pushed it aside roughly. It was already broken from when the stupid fragger had smashed into it while racing a couple days before.

He entered and found the room to be empty at the first glance. He knew exactly where his teammate was though because of the gestalt bond. He took this opportunity to look around the room.

The walls were painted with childish caricatures of all the things Wildrider enjoyed. There were strange items littered all over the room. Most of it Motormaster didn't even recognize. It was all stupid human junk that Wildrider for some reason enjoyed collecting.

Most of it wasn't worth his time and he started to get annoyed when he didn't find what he was looking for. But then he glanced up and an evil smile appeared on his face plates.

In each corner of the room was a large speaker that attached to Wildrider's impressive music playing device. Those speakers were Wildrider's prized possessions. They were one of the things that kept him sane late in the night cycle when he was alone and had no one to pull him out of his episodes of psychosis.

Motormaster stomped over to the berth, not caring were he stepped or what he stepped on along the way. He knelt down slightly and reached under the bed. His hand grasped a spike and he yanked as hard as he could.

Wildrider yowled in pain as he was roughly pulled from his hiding spot. He didn't have time to do anything other then that though. As soon as his frame was clear of the berth Motormaster grasped his other head spike and slammed his face into the nearest speaker.

He felt the mesh cave in and the metallic and plastic parts dig into his face painfully.

Motormaster repeated this motion five times with each speaker until they were all destroyed along with one of Wildrider's optics and a large portion of his faceplate.

He dragged the unconscious mech out of the room and threw him on the ground outside the doorway. Wildrider's head spikes were mangled beyond recognition.

Motormaster chuckled darkly as he headed to his final subordinate's room.

Before he could destroy the yellow door in front of him though it burst open and there was a gun being pointed at his face. It was shaking slightly but its owner was trying hard to reign in his terror.

Before Drag Strip could even think of firing Motormaster had ripped the gun out of his hands and grabbed the smaller mech around the neck. He lifted him up off of his pedes and slammed him against the side of the door frame.

"Well Drag Strip what do you have to say for yourself. You are always saying how you would make a better leader. You had your chance to prove it with this mission but instead you have made a fool of yourself and my team by allowing Megatron's weapon part to be lost." Motormaster growled this into Drag Strips face. He loved the way Drag Strip's terrified optics went almost white with anger.

"What are talking… Umppphhh" Drag Strip had started to say something but Motormaster cut him off by shoving the barrel of his gun into the little yellow mech's mouth.

"You love this gun so much Drag Strip. Why don't you suck it for me? Show me how much you enjoy having this weapon."

While he said this he moved the gun in and out of Drag Strip's mouth provocatively. The smaller mech's optics were glowing with pure hatred and embarrassment.

When Motormaster got tired of watching Drag Strip suck on the gun he pulled it out of his subordinate's mouth and pistol whipped him across the helm with it.

Drag Strip fell to the ground clutching his helm and groaning in pain. Motormaster moved closer to him and then proceeded to kick him in the helm repeatedly.

He let out all his energy on Drag Strip's face. He didn't stop kicking the yellow mech until all of his anger and rage had started to fade. He finally stopped and sighed. He was content with the lesson he had taught his subordinates. They would think twice before they failed Megatron again.

A chuckle sounded from the center of the room. Motormaster looked up startled. He had not expected any of his teammates to be conscious or laughing for a very long time after that beating.

It was not one of his gestalt mates though. Sitting on the Stunticon's largest couch holding one of the discarded cubes of high grade was Skywarp. He took a large sip of the cube and smiled at Motormaster.

Motormaster took a step toward him and growled threatening. Some of his anger was returning, though not at the force it had previously been at.

"What do you think you are doing here Skywarp?" The semi growled. "This is Stunticon territory and you are not welcome here." Skywarp only laughed at that and raised his cube into the air as if to give a toast.

"I just came down here to congratulate your team on finally completing a successful mission." He said without a trace of sarcasm in his voice. "I mean they did get the part that Megatron was after and they injured like five Autobots all on their own. I thought they deserved a little appreciation but I can see that you already have that covered." Skywarp looked down at his cube and swirled the liquid around a little before taking another sip.

"Ahhh good stuff. Well I must be off now. Thanks for the show and remember to extend my congrats to your team when they wake up." Skywarp cocked his head to the side in mock thought for a moment. "That is if they wake up of course"

He then teleported out of the room. Motormaster thought he could still hear the seeker's mad laughter lingering in the air around the couch.

The large purple mech walked over to the couch and sat down. He looked up at his dented and offline team. He wondered if he should be feeling guilt for punishing them unfairly.

He snorted and picked up one of the discarded high grade cubes. He took a sip and rolled the liquid around his glossa before swallowing. He sighed contently and relaxed into the couch. Skywarp was right. This was some pretty good high grade.


	2. Acrophobia

Acrophobia: An abnormal and persistent fear of heights.

Attempt #1

Silverbolt walked over to the edge of the cliff. Today was going to be his first attempt at learning to overcome his fear. After a disastrous mission earlier that week in which his fear of heights had caused Skydive to be injured, Optimus Prime had suggested he try to work through his problems with a little exposure therapy.

So that's what he intended to do. His issues had always held his team back a little but now they had even caused one of his brothers to be injured. It was time to take action and become the leader that the Aerialbots deserved. He would do this and come out stronger for it.

That was what he told himself on the way there anyway but now looking at the cliff he was going to have to jump off of, he wasn't feeling as optimistic as before.

Silverbolt had flown many times and jumped off cliffs even larger then the one he was currently standing near. All of those times had been in the heat of battle though. When he had needed to forget his issues and be there for his team.

He was terrified to discover that this was very different. Without that rush of fuel in his lines that triggered the fight instinct in his processor there was nothing for him to focus on but the cliff in front of him. The very large cliff in front of him.

He cycled air through his vents and even tried taking a deep breath as a human would do. He took another step towards the edge of the cliff and looked down.

He let out a little squeak of fear and stumbled backwards. One of his pedes hit a rock and he fell back landing hard on his aft. He fans were roaring and if he had been human he would have started to hyperventilate. That cliff had been higher then he had expected.

He sat there for a few minutes and waited for his systems to calm down. Once they were all back to normal he slowly got to his pedes. His frame was a little shaky but he was sure that would pass in a few minutes.

Silverbolt glanced back over at the cliff he had just been standing next to. He debated whether he should make a second attempt today or try again some other time. The Concorde's fans started to whir again so he took that as a sign that he had had enough for one day.

He turned around and walked back to the Ark. Silverbolt told himself that he was walking back because he wanted to enjoy the scenery. It had absolutely nothing to do with not wanting to fly back. Nothing at all.

Attempt #2

Silverbolt was back at the cliff and he was ready to try it again. He had spent the last three days trying to come up with a way to make jumping off of it less frightening for him.

He hadn't been able to come up with many things but he had decided to crawl over to the cliff this time instead of walking. That way he would be less scared of the cliff giving way underneath him since his weight would be distributed. It would also reduce the height he would have to look down at.

Silverbolt got down on his servos and knees about two hundred feet away from the cliff. After cycling air through his vents he started his slow crawl over to the edge.

It was an uncomfortable and time-consuming journey. It gave him a little too much time to think about what he was doing. All of the horrible things that could happen started to run through his head. He even started to imagine what the cliff would look like once he got to the edge.

The spikes at the bottom hadn't been there the last time he was here but his processor seemed almost sure that's what he would see as soon as he reached the edge.

He heard the noise of a rock falling somewhere of to the side of him. He paused and his fans started to work even harder. Was the cliff breaking? Had he not distributed his weight enough?

He slowly dropped down until his chassis was lying on the ground. He really wanted to quit but he only had a few feet left and he wanted to see this through.

Silverbolt dragged himself the last couple yards and offlined his optics as soon as he reached the edge.

He took a few deep breaths to steady himself and then waited a minute for his fans to calm.

Silverbolt onlined his optics and looked down. Well there wasn't a spike pit underneath him. He let out a small sigh of relief and then looked around some more. He was doing a lot better then his first attempt and he was very proud of himself.

His optics traveled over to the road he could see near the other end of the canyon. It was a few miles away and he had to adjust his optics to see what was happening over there.

As soon as he zoomed in enough to see the scene on the road he wished he hadn't. There were human fire trucks and ambulances surrounding a large blue van. The van was flipped upside down and appeared to be on fire.

That van had obviously fallen from the cliff on the other side of the canyon.

Silverbolt wondered if that's what it would look like if he fell. His optics immediately looked towards the bottom of the cliff he was lying on.

He gasped and started to crawl back away from the cliff. As soon as he was clear he got to his pedes and started to run.

Silverbolt decided he would try again on a different day.

Attempt #3

Silverbolt had returned to the cliff a third time. It had been a month since his last failed attempt here. During that month he had tried a new tactic.

He had gone to some smaller cliffs and practiced taking off from those. He had been mostly successful and now felt that he was ready to face this cliff again.

Silverbolt walked over to the edge with a confidence that was very unusual for him. He was almost positive that today was finally going to be the day that he jumped from this cliff.

His biggest challenge would finally be conquered.

Silverbolt smiled a little when he reached the edge and looked down. He felt no fear. He was sure he could do this. This was his moment. He was finally going t…

"Hey Silverbolt, what are you doing over there?" Bluestreak shouted from a little ways behind him. He had been so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't heard the rumble of the Datsun's engine as he approached.

The sound of another bot's voice startled him though. He stumbled a little in shock and turned to see who had shouted. His turn displaced a few rocks and caused him to lose his footing on the edge. Silverbolt fell backwards off the side of the cliff.

He immediately started to panic as he felt the air flowing past him. Silverbolt tried to transform but the energon in his lines wasn't flowing properly and he couldn't get his T-cog to work.

His vents were roaring but their noise was nothing compared to Silverbolt's scream as he flipped over in midair and saw the ground rushing up to meet him.

His landing was horribly painful but he had just enough time to be grateful he was on the ground again before blackness claimed him.

Silverbolt onlined to find himself in the medbay. His first thought wasn't about how he had ended up there but about how uncomfortable the metal berth was on his wings.

He shifted a little to try to get comfortable but the movement only alerted him to several other pains. He groaned and went back to just lying there.

Silverbolt heard a chuckle from across the room. He onlined his optics and raised his head up to see who else was there. Ratchet was standing across the room at a counter wiping off medical supplies.

"I see you're finally awake." The medic said.

"How did I get here?" Silverbolt asked him. Ratchet laughed a little more and then stopped to give him a stern look.

"How do you think you got here? You were jumping off a cliff for some strange reason that probably only makes sense in that fragged up processor of yours." Ratchet shook a wrench at him as he said this. "Now I know your team is annoying and all but that is no reason to attempt suicide." Ratchet glared at him and waited for an answer.

"I wasn't…" Silverbolt started to try and explain himself but then thought better of it. "Oh forget it." He dropped his head back to the berth and offlined his optics.

Ratchet only laughed again and went back to cleaning his tools.

Silverbolt decided that he was done with exposure therapy. Especially if every failed attempt would expose him to Ratchet.


	3. Sadistic Persnality Disorder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadistic personality Disorder: This disorder is characterized by cruel, aggressive, manipulative, and demeaning behavior directed towards others. Abusiveness and violence are common in the sadist's social relationships, because the sadist lacks concern for people and derives pleasure from harming or humiliating others.
> 
> Definition provided by psychnet-UK.

The blue and white mech hung from the ceiling limply. The silver chains above him made a pleasing sound as his body swayed a little. Vortex had always loved the sounds that chains made. He sometimes played tracks of it in his head when he had trouble falling into recharge.

Such a pleasant sound.

He wondered if Mirage enjoyed it too.

He walked around the suspended mech slowly. He liked to examine his victim before he began his work. Brawl liked to joke that he enjoyed playing with his food. He guessed that was sort of true.

It had been pure luck that had led his newest meal to be hanging here in the first place. Blast off had been walking down a hallway that was a little two small for him and he had just bumped into Mirage.

Getting knocked down by such a large mech had shocked the Autobot spy so much that he had suddenly become visible again.

Vortex chuckled just thinking about the rush of surprise that had flared through the gestalt bond when Blast Off had discovered Mirage. It wasn't often that the shuttle felt such strong emotions. Well, except for hatred. He felt that a lot.

A small noise brought the rotary out of his thoughts.

Mirage gave another little moan as he came back online. Vortex's rotors spun as he walked over to the trapped Autobot.

"Good morning sunshine." Vortex said. "How was your little rest. I hope you enjoyed it because I have a few fun things planned for us." He giggled as he said the last part.

"Fun?" Mirage groaned. It was an effort to speak. The stun gun that Blast Off had used to put him into stasis had left some residual charges in his system. He hurt everywhere.

"Well fun for me anyway." Vortex walked over to a table in the corner and examined a datapad. "Now I am going to have to disable your electro-disruptor. Normally I would let you do what you wanted during an interrogation but I sort of promised Swindle I would video tape this little session. Sorry about that."

"What?" Mirage asked. He couldn't make of sense of anything that Vortex was saying it felt like his processor was running slower then usual. It was getting better as the charge in his circuits dissipated. He wasn't sure if he wanted it too though.

"Well you see Swin says that your frame is an old tower model." He explained as he scrolled down the pages on the data pad. "A video of a sexy tower frame dripping in energon goes for a lot with the kinda people Swin deals with. I hope you understand. We can't have you being camera shy. It's nothing personal."

Vortex put the data pad back on the table and rubbed his servos together. A twisted smile appeared on his faceplates. He began to take slow steps toward his prisoner.

"I think it's time we begin." Vortex said. "Now Megatron suspects that your purpose here today was not to spy on us but to give us a little… gift." Vortex ghosted his servo over the blue mech's back. He counted softly to himself. His voice was a soft purr. It sent shivers through Mirage's frame.

"Five…"

"Four…"

"Three…"

"Two…"

"One"

Vortex used his claw like hands to dig the electro-disruptor out of Mirages frame. The blue mech screamed in agony as the little machine was forcefully pulled from his body.

The scream made Vortex shudder in pleasure. The sound was even better then the noise of the chains. He loved it.

He needed more.

It was like finding a delicious high grade. You couldn't just have one sip. You had to down the whole cube. But you had to savour it too. Oh and he was planning to savour this.

"Now are you going to tell me what you were doing here?" He asked in a mock sweet voice. "Hmmm? We can stop this right now if you will just tell me why you are here."

Mirage didn't speak. He hung there drawing air into his intakes.

Vortex's smile grew wider. He loved when they didn't give in easily. It made it so much sweeter. So much more fun. He began his countdown again.

"Five…"

"Four…"

He loved to watch his victim's face while he counted. You could see the fear growing in their optics as the numbers got lower. The sight of their lips trembling in fear sent jolts of pleasure through his frame.

"Three…"

"Two…"

"One"

Vortex suddenly brought a laser scalpel out his subspace. He used it to slowly carve his name into the flat, white surface of Mirage's right thigh. The pink energon started to slowly trickle from the deep cuts.

Vortex felt his spark shudder from the sight of it. Primus but he loved his job.

The Decepticon kneeled down in front of the shaking blue mech. He leaned in close to the Autobot's injured leg and flicked his glossa against one of the cuts.

Both of the mechs moaned at exactly the same moment. Mirage, from the sting of the wet appendage on his burning leg. Vortex, from the delicious taste of processed energon.

There was nothing more delicious then energon you took from someone else. It had a flavour to it that you just couldn't find anywhere but inside another Cybertronians body. He gave Mirage another lick and rolled the thick liquid over his tongue.

He moaned again.

"Just tell me why you're here Mirage and this can all be over." He said right before he pushed his tongue past the torn metal. He could feel some of the Autobot's wires sparking against his glossa. He wondered if that's what human pop rocks would feel like.

Mirage squirmed and tried not to cry out against the pain.

"I have nothing to tell you." He said through gritted denta. He was beginning to weaken though and Vortex could feel that. After years of being in this profession he had learned to read his victims well.

That is what made him the best.

"Oh I think you have something to tell me. It's up there in that pretty little head if yours. And since Soundwave isn't here, it's my job to get it out." Vortex gave the cuts one more long lick before rising from the floor.

He walked slowly around Mirage. He had an expression of deep thought on his face that made Mirage's breathing speed up even more.

"Yes, it's up there in your head. The answers that Megatron wants." Vortex mumbled to himself as he walked over to one of the tables that lined the walls. He picked up a large silver blade and inspected it for a moment.

It would do nicely for what he had in mind.

Vortex walked back over to the still hanging Autobot and smirked at him.

Without saying another word he gently put the blade on Mirage's neck. After a moment of resting it there and seeing the fear and confusion in the Autobot's expression he began to move it back and forth.

He had first seen this method while watching some ridiculous human show on how they cut down there forest plants. A tree is what they called them. Two humans would go back and forth at the base of the tree with an overlarge saw. It had become a perfect interrogation method. One of his new favorites.

He began to increase the pace at which he saw and Mirage started to scream as the energon slowly dripped down his neck. Vortex used the servo that was not controlling the knife to spread the fluid around the Autobots face.

Vortex though it made his white frame look even more beautiful. He brought some of it to his lips and sucked on his fingers. That gave him an even better idea.

He swirled his fingers in the still leaking energon until they were completely coated in the thick fluid. He then stuck them into Mirage's still screaming mouth.

It felt so good to have the other mech's glossa writhing against his fingers. He let out another little moan at how wonderful this was. Some mechs really did get everything they ever wanted.

"Pwease!" Mirage screamed around his fingers. "Pwease stop. I'll tell you just pwease no more."

Vortex stopped moving the knife and withdrew his still coated fingers.

"What was that? I didn't quite hear you." The Con smiled sickly at the other mech.

Mirage took a few breaths to steady himself though the pain he was feeling. "I left a bomb." He began. "I left a bomb on the lowest deck." Vortex stepped away from the Autobot after hearing this and Mirage sagged in his chains.

The sight made Vortex's rotors spin in pleasure.

The Combaticon turned away and quickly called Onslaught on his comm.

"The interrogation was a success. The Autobot spy says he left a bomb on the lowest deck." He stood there for a while waiting for conformation of his new information. He was easily amused by his still hanging prisoner.

Finally he received a comm. Back from his commander saying that the bomb had been found and disabled.

"Great but my new toy is still conscious down here and I was wondering if I had the all clear to have a little more fun with him." Vortex said this pleadingly.

"Megatron says to do as you please but to not kill him. Onslaught out" The comm. Disconnected and Vortex returned his hungry gaze to the lovely blue, white, and pink mech in front of him.

He pulled a shock prod from his subspace and started to slowly walk towards Mirage.

"It looks like we still get to have some more fun." He turned the pord on and off as he took each step.

"Five…"

"Four…"

"Three…"

"Two…"

"One"

He flipped the dial on the prod to its highest setting and the light lit the entire room up. It filled his spark with contentment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. 
> 
> -Rel


End file.
